


mac demarco

by antiquescissors



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Amane Misa Deserves Better, Autistic L (Death Note), Drugs, F/M, Minor Amane Misa/Yagami Light, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sex Shop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:07:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27651089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antiquescissors/pseuds/antiquescissors
Summary: it's one thing to be dragged into a sex shop; it's entirely another to have to deal with its strange, wide-eyed cashier.
Relationships: Amane Misa/L, Mello | Mihael Keehl/Near | Nate River
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	mac demarco

**Author's Note:**

> !!!: i completely rewrote the first chapter & added a lot. sorry. i still don't like the way it's written, so i may end up doing it again. sorry for that, too, haha

_did you put all your stuff away? is the room nice?? i feel like the dorms at to-oh are kinda shitty lol_

Misa read her sister's text through bleary eyes. She was not quite crying anymore, but her cheeks were blotchy and stained with tears, and her body was periodically racked with shivers. Clumsily, she typed out a response. 

_no i literajly havent done anuthing and my boyfriend just broke p with me_

Not even thirty seconds after she put the phone down, it began to ring with a vengeance. Yumeko was concerned, understandably. Unfortunately for her, Misa was simply not in the mood to answer. Instead, she let the ringing of the phone provide a background soundtrack to her internal monologue—which was not so much a monologue as a heated rant. Why was she not... _enough_ for him? What had she done to make him leave? 

She trembled slightly. Before, there had been anger, an intense heat that came out in a slew of words directed against him; now, there was only grief. All that time she'd spent thinking about him, worrying about him, crying over him, pouring love on him—it was all a waste. Realistically, they had only been together for a few months, but Misa couldn't help but feel that it had always been this way. She felt like she'd wasted half her lifespan on a man who would never have loved her back. 

Oh, God, he'd never loved her at all, had he? It was this thought, combined with the cacophonic ringing in the background, that sent her into another sobbing fit. He'd never loved her at all. All the love and care and concern she gave him and he never loved her at all. Misa shoved her face into her pillow and wailed. She had given him everything, and now she was empty. 

When the phone rang for the fifth time, she picked it up. 

"I want to go shopping," she said in a petulant voice, cutting off the sentence Yumeko had been in the process of starting. 

There was a pause. "Are you sure you don't want to just...take it easy for a little while?" 

"Yes, I'm positive," she sighed impatiently, rising into a sitting position and sniffing. "How soon can you get ready?" 

"Okay, Misa." Her voice was gentle. "We can go shopping. You know, I actually had some places I wanted to visit anyway. I'll see you in an hour?" 

Misa glanced towards her mirror, caught her gaze, and felt her heart sink. Her pigtails were mussed up, her face was red and blotchy, and black eye makeup was streaked down her face. 

"Two hours."

"Are you serious?" 

"I've been crying, and you know how long it takes to do my eyeliner." Her voice lowered to a meaningful whisper. "Plus, what if I _see him?_ I don't wanna look like a wreck." 

There was a long sigh. "Okay, Misa," Yumeko said in a patronizing tone that made Misa's nose scrunch, "I'll see you in two hours."

\---

As Light's distance from the campus increased, as did the sensation of pure, unadulterated triumph. He had done it. It'd taken an embarrassing amount of time and effort, but he'd finally done it. 

She was gone. 

Though, probably not for good, Light thought, a little concernedly. Misa was nothing if not determined, and she hadn't seemed too keen on letting him go. But that didn't mean he had to date her, per se. He could use her. Misa was a puppet, perpetually holding out her strings for the taking, and, as sad as it was, she would likely be used that way for the rest of her life. She was weak. Malleable. 

Who, Light justified to himself, would mold her if not me? Who would take her strings and make her dance? Better it be him than someone who would deliberately hurt her. 

_For these reasons, it's perfectly fine that I continue asking her to cook for me._

He made his way across the street. Now he could finally begin focusing on the most pressing matters at hand: new relationships, his studies, and his plans; the most difficult (and important) of which would certainly be the latter. Misa had swallowed his time with her needs, had demanded to be his priority each and every waking hour. It was rare that he had time to focus on his ideas for the future. Light shuddered at the remembrance and silently vowed he would have a very different experience with the next girl he chose to pursue. 

With this thought in mind, Light approached the local cafe. 

There was a young woman who was working at this hour, if he recalled correctly. One that the other men on campus would occassionally refer to as _Seiso_ Takada. She may have been rumored to be hard-to-get, but Light actually found the act of pursuing her to be quite easy. The barista had an obvious soft spot for him, and he exploited it with all the calculated tact of a master manipulator. 

When he stepped into the cafe, her eyes met his with gleeful surprise. "Light?" she questioned, adjusting her apron. "I hadn't expected to see you here again."

"Why wouldn't I be here?" he asked, smiling smoothly. He took note of her fidgeting. As calm and collected as she might have sounded, he had a visible effect on her. 

"I suppose I don't usually think of you as a coffee person."

Light shrugged and looked into her eyes, a manufactured warmth in his gaze. "I guess I don't really give off that impression. Still, what can I say? I wanted to see my favorite barista."

Takada lifted her chin, regarding him with a hesitancy he hadn't anticipated. "Oh," was all she said. 

_Pulling a girl like Kiyomi is going to be a little different from pulling a girl like Misa,_ he acknowledged. Women in general, Light thought, were fairly easy, and she was obviously interested in him. But that interest didn't mean she would let him in right away—she was smart, and conservative, and had a reputation to uphold. Thus, attracting her would take a little more effort on Light's part. 

No matter. If the way she leaned across the counter was any indication, this was nothing he couldn't accomplish. 

"I know we don't see each other very often," Light confessed shyly, restarting the conversation, "but I just wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked today."

That earned him just the slightest blush, though she still didn't smile. "Thank you, Light. I appreciate it." A few seconds passed. "I would love to see you more often, if I'm being honest."

 _I've got her._ "And if I'm being honest, the feeling is very mutual. How does tomorrow sound? Are you working?" 

"Not after three in the afternoon."

He smiled. "I'll pick you up from work. We can go wherever you want."

Finally, finally, he had achieved her smile. It slid across her face with uncharacteristic shyness. "That's very sweet of you." Her shoulders straightened, her smile shifting from girlish nervousness to something more mischievous. "Did you come here just to proposition me, or did you actually plan on ordering?" 

Light chuckled. "To be honest, you were right earlier. I'm not much of a coffee person." His smile dropped, and he leaned in conspiratorially, as to suggest the importance of what he was going to tell her. "But I did want to share a few ideas of mine with you."

\---

"So, like…"

"Ah, yes?"

"I don't know. I guess I was just thinking something more along the lines of...clothes shopping," Misa whispered to her sister in a mixture of both horror and something like awe. Together they stood in front of a black and pink painted building, small in stature. To the right of the main entrance was a sign that read, "OPEN 24/7. 18+ ONLY. NO EXCEPTIONS"; to the left, a rather graphic mural of a woman with a gag in her mouth. Overall, Misa was displeased with the situation. 

It wasn't that she was sheltered, or innocent by any means—she had no problem with...things of that nature. Had even hoped for them, expected them, when she was dating Light (not that he ever indulged her). Still, she couldn't help but think of what it would mean to be caught in a place like this. Sure, she wasn't exactly an A-list celebrity, but she had a few amateur modeling gigs lined up, and she was in the process of pursuing an acting career. Despite the irrationality of it all, she couldn't help but visualize the worst coming to fruition: at the height of her career, suddenly it would come out that Misa Amane, famous and beautiful movie star, had visited a sex shop. 

"I never said anything about clothes," Yumeko responded shortly. 

"Well, you didn't exactly say anything about your little bondage hut _either,_ did you?" 

"Misa, you're practically grown. We'll only be in there for, like, five minutes. You might even find something for yourself while you're at it." 

Yumeko pushed open the door with a huff, revealing shelves upon shelves of dirty magazines, toys Misa couldn't figure out the purpose of, and—most horrifyingly—tacky posters. Actually, scratch that. Easily the most horrifying thing in that store was a bright red dildo, put on display for all to see, with a length of...it had to be something like twelve inches. If not more. 

"Holy fucking shit, you think anyone's actually bought and used that thing before?" Misa blurted out, way too loudly. 

"Actually, plenty have."

She whipped around to face the store's cashier, who was sitting in a crouched position upon a red stool. The bags under his eyes were so pronounced she briefly pondered whether they were natural or drawn on, and he had the kind of spiked, unkempt black hair that emo douchebags spent hours perfecting, but, by far, his most noticeable feature was his eyes. They looked like bottomless pits. 

The blank intensity of his gaze made her slightly uncomfortable, and she didn't respond. Though, honestly, he hadn't looked like he was expecting her to. 

"Wow," Yumeko murmured in awe, "and they, like, actually use it?" 

"Apparently," the cashier answered. Misa wasn't sure whether she was imagining the hint of amusement in his tired eyes. 

She trailed behind Yumeko through the halls of the shop like a nervous dog, afraid to venture off on her own. Again, it wasn't that sexuality made her nervous. It was just that the kind of sexuality she was used to was a little more...subtle. Slipping a sleeve down, bending over slightly, et cetera, et cetera. The nature of this shop was so blatant, so in-your-face that she was sure anyone would be a little embarrassed to be in a place like this. 

Anyone but that strange cashier, who's bottomless pit eyes seemed to follow her wherever she went. Around every shelf, across every hall, he watched her openly and without shame. All the while, his chin rested lazily in his palm, and his thumb brushed back and forth across his lower lip. Misa wasn't at all unfamiliar with being stared at, but usually men could afford themselves at least a little restraint. _Usually_ they'd look away every now and then. This guy hadn't looked away from her even once, and she knew it, and he knew she knew it. He seemed, even, to take some pleasure in it, and the knowledge of that sparked Misa's slight frustration into unbridled fury. 

"What the actual hell are you looking at?" she said, finally, shouting it across the room. Her sister, who had been carefully browsing a section of vibrarors, shot her a death glare as a heavy silence settled. 

The cashier didn't seem surprised by her outburst, nor did he look away. "Is that a To-oh sweatshirt?" he questioned, gesturing to Yumeko's attire. 

Misa flushed with embarrassment. Had she just imagined it? It struck her that he had probably just been looking at the sweatshirt. 

Yumeko perked up at that, eager to brag. "Yes, actually! I graduated from To-oh a few years ago. You're familiar with it?"

"I go there." Oh, no. "I'm a junior." Oh, fuck. 

"What a coincidence!" Yumeko gushed, just the picture of innocence. Misa could see the deviousness behind that smile. "My little sister is just starting. What are you majoring in?" 

There were times when Misa wished she and Yumeko were twins. For a lot of reasons. Firstly, because she thought their dynamic could be somewhat improved if they were on the same level. She wouldn't have to face Yumeko's constant condescension, Yumeko would be forced to acknowledge Misa as an equal, and, under those conditions, they could maybe, possibly, develop something akin to love. Another reason was that Misa would have liked to have killed her in the womb. 

He put his finger to his lip again, as though deep in thought. "Criminal justice. I'm also working on a minor in psychology." 

"Again, what a coincidence!" Misa urged herself to stop Yumeko, or run from the store, but she was unable. Frozen in horror, all she could do was watch. "My baby sister here is a performing arts major who's also minoring in psychology!"   
Yumeko turned to face her, a grin plastered across her face. "And you said you were having some troubles in your classes, right, Misa?" 

Misa's gaze switched from her treacherous sister to the amused cashier and back, paralyzed with anxiety. Yumeko cackled. "Oh, Misa. I'm only kidding." She turned to the cashier. "Can I get these bagged?" she asked, holding out a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs. 

Misa did not think she needed to know that her sister was into fuzzy pink handcuffs. 

Yumeko handed him her purchases, as well as her money and ID, and Misa watched his long fingers pull out her change. He was pale, almost unnaturally so. Briefly, Misa wondered whether he was fully Japanese. It made sense that he might be a foreigner, and would explain the strangeness of his behavior, too. He smelled strongly of marijuana—that was a little contradictory for a criminal justice major, right? There was an aura of mystery that surrounded him, and, as uncomfortable as he'd made her, he'd also sparked a fascination within Misa that grew with each passing second. 

Her eyes finally lifted from his hands to his face to see him simpering at her. She turned to see Yumeko already at the door, and a realization dawned. She had been staring at him. _She_ had been staring at _him_. 

"I like your eyeliner," he said softly. 

She quickly followed Yumeko out the door, and then felt a stab of guilt. After yelling at him in his own store, the least she could have done was thank him. And she hadn't even apologized. Usually, Misa prided herself on the kindness she could show, or at least fake, towards people who deserved it. And he had totally deserved it! He had been perfectly civil to her the entire time, and even went so far as to compliment her eyeliner. Misa frowned at herself, pulling her jacket around her tightly. So, why had she acted like that? 

When Yumeko reached the car, she gasped. "Ah, wait! I need to go back in there! I forgot something."

"Seriously?" Misa cried. "What did you forget?" 

"Don't worry about it! I'll be back in two minutes." 

With a pout, she climbed into the car. She spent the whole two minutes with her head in her hands, and on the drive home, she thought about the cashier. 

\---

Unbeknownst to Misa Amane, the cashier thought about her, too. 

"Um. Would you guys happen to sell any, uh, pillows?" 

L squinted his eyes at his customer—a tall, middle-aged, black-haired man with a creepy aura. "Pillows?" he echoed. 

"You know," the customer said, gesturing vaguely, "pillows." He shifted nervously, glancing repeatedly towards the entrance, as though he were afraid of being caught.

With a long sigh, L looked up at the man. "Are you referring to body pillows?" 

"Yes!" He squeaked, and then cleared his throat. "Yes, thank you. Would you- uh- happen to have any that look like idols?"

"We don't," L answered in a monotone. This was not the first, nor, even, the hundred-and-first time that he'd been asked that question. "Is there anything else I can help you with?" 

The man had already speed-walked from the counter to the door, and, after struggling with the handle for a few seconds, managed to burst through it. L watched him flee from the premises with a bored sigh. Over the past few months that he'd worked in a sex shop, he'd grown accustomed to the nervous nature of his customers. There were plenty who were bolder about their desires, but the vast majority carried a great deal anxiety with them as they stepped through the doors. Understandably so. It wasn't exactly the most welcoming store on the block. 

As L pondered upon the perpetual nervousness of his customers, his thoughts drifted, as they had several times this evening, back to his interaction with Misa Amane. 

L had something of a tendency to stare—he had been made very aware of it by uncomfortable customers over the years—but never like that. Usually, he was able to catch himself in the act and turn his focus elsewhere, if only for the sake of keeping complaints to a minimum. And yet, in that moment, he had been entirely unable to look away from her. He had some inclination as to why: she was beautiful, and her style was unique, and she had some sort of un-nameable quality about her that stuck with him. L trusted his own mind. He figured that, if Misa Amane seemed significant to him, then she must be. 

He would see her again. He didn't yet know when, but that much was certain. 

When his phone rang, he eyed it with some distain before picking up. He had a delivery to make. 

\---

Light was in the midst of the painfully exhausting process of explaining his plan to his roommate when he was interrupted for the fifth time. 

"Wait a damn minute," Ryuk, tall and scruffy-haired, cut in. "So you're saying-" 

"No," Light huffed, infuriated. "Not 'wait a damn minute.' There's nothing that's hard to understand about this." 

"Er." He scratched his head, eyes shifty. "I dunno. I get what you're trying to say an' all. It's just..."

"What?"

"Don't you think you're kinda being a snitch? No hate," he held his hands up, "but I simply do not vibe with it."

Light inhaled sharply, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Snitching on criminals is justified. By your definition, you wouldn't 'vibe with' any law enforcement official.'"

"Bingo!"

This was impossible, Light realized. If he continued to approach the matter from this angle, Ryuk would never agree with him. He couldn't appeal to his morals, because he had none. Bribery, on the other hand... 

"Okay, okay." Light chuckled, holding his hands up in defeat. "I see how it is. It's obvious I'm not going to persuade you." 

Ryuk squinted his eyes at him suspiciously. "Glad you could come around. Now, if you'll excuse me, Ryuk has a phone call to make."

"To whom?" 

He snickered. "You'd snitch on him."

This was his opportunity. Light feigned a reluctant sigh. "You know, Ryuk, it's unfortunate, but..." dramatic pause, "when I purge this school of illegal activity, you're probably going to be on the other end of it. No hard feelings if I have to report this, okay?" 

It worked like a charm. He could see it in Ryuk's face. "C'mon, Light," he stammered with a nervous laugh, "I'm addicted, it's not like I can just...quit."

"I'm sure that addiction costs a lot of money, right?" he asked slyly. 

"Pretty much."

"Well, how about this:" the master plan, what had been on the tip of his tongue all along, "I can supply you with stuff, whatever you need. On one condition." Light held a finger up. "You give me names of other dealers on campus."

Ryuk leaned back at that, considering. "Wait a second. Wouldn't you be a criminal, then?" 

"That's different," Light scoffed. "I'm an honor student."

"Hm. Y'know, Light, I'd love to give you my guy's name. The thing is, I don't know whether or not you're telling the truth." He waggled a taunting finger at him. "I'm gonna need a THC pen."

 _That's hardly addictive,_ Light thought, but sighed. He would hold up his end of the deal regardless. "Got it." He walked to the door, formulating a plan. "Anything else?" 

"Uh," Ryuk started, grinning a little shyly, "if you can, could ya make it apple-flavored?" 

\---

"This is an odd tutoring setting, isn't it?" 

Mello elbowed his friend, turning to L with a shark-toothed grin. "Don't listen to him. This is fine."

L blinked blearily at the freshmen. They were a little strange, but he felt endeared towards them. The white-haired, scruffy one rubbed his side where the elbow had struck, and the blond goth sneered at him. _Young love._

Not for the first time today, L's thoughts were interrupted by an incessant ringing. _What concerns,_ he mused to himself, _could a customer possibly have at three in the morning?_ He was a little intrigued, despite himself. 

"Excuse me," he sighed, rising from a crouching position in his chair. The boys glanced at each other in confusion. "I should be back within five minutes."

\---

Back in her dorm, Misa curled into a tiny ball. All she had managed to do was distract herself from pain and guilt with even more pain and guilt, and she had essentially no one to talk to about it. Her roommate, a tall, shaggy-haired girl named Rem, was staying with her parents for the first week. And it wasn't as though she could complain to Light about it, the way she normally would. Misa frowned at the realization that she didn't really have any close friends. 

What she did have was an essay to finish. Granted, she had a lot of time to get it done, but the rest of her week would be booked with modeling gigs. Personally, she thought her psychology class held little weight in comparison to her modeling career, but she knew Yumeko would be disappointed in her, and that made her want to die a little bit. Besides, she would be a little disappointed in herself if she didn't even try. 

She wanted to go to a party or something. Wasn't that the typical college experience? Only, she knew practically no one. No one except her ex and her absent roommate. 

And...

And that cashier, right? He went to To-oh. He didn't exactly seem like the kind of guy who attended parties, but he seemed kind of stoner-ish. She recalled the stench of weed in his shop. At the very least, they could smoke together. Or he could help her with her psychology work. Or both! Misa could already feel herself brightening up at the idea. It would give her an opportunity to apologize and clear her own conscience, and she would be able to get her work done. And also, hopefully, get high. 

_God,_ Misa thought to herself, _I'm, like, practically a genius._

There was only one problem: Misa didn't know where to find him. She had already decided that she would, but she wasn't yet sure how. She could always call Yumeko and ask to go back to the shop? But it was late. Practically the middle of the night. There was no way she would be awake. 

Then it hit her. 

The shop was open 24/7, wasn't it? That was what the sign had said. And, like a typical business, it probably accepted calls. Misa fumbled for her phone, searching up the name of the store and finding the one she'd attended. 

Silently, she prayed as she pressed the call button that the same cashier from earlier would pick up. 

"How can I help you?" a bored voice on the end of the line asked.

Misa's heart swelled, and simultaneously dropped with anxiety. It was definitely him. 

"Hi! This is Misa Amane," she said in the most confident tone and vaguely flirty tone she could muster. "Me and my sister bought some, um, handcuffs at your store today and I was wondering if you could help me with something."

"Oh?" he said, and she could hear his smile. "What is it that you need help with, Miss Amane?" 

Her heart thudded in her chest. What would she say? She should bring up the psychology work- wait, no, he probably wouldn't want to help her with that. Did he know any parties in the area? Did he know anyone who could help her with psychology? Did he have any tips? 

"Miss Amane?" he said, sounding slightly confused now. "Are you still there?" 

"Could you maybe get me some weed?" she blurted out. 

_Fuck._

There was a long silence. "Where's your dorm?" 

Misa grinned with delight. 

**Author's Note:**

> i've been rereading the manga and the scene where ryuk is like "wait, but if you're killing criminals, wouldn't you end up being the only criminal left?" and light answers, "you could say i'm japan's number one honor student" is easily the best part


End file.
